Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE WOUND, by JOSEPH BEAUMONT



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THE WOUND, by            
First Line: Dear love, thou needst not send a dart
Last Line: Thy life is ratified by the rebound.
Subject(s): Love; Self-consciousness


DEAR Love, thou needst not send a Dart
To finde the bottome of my Hart:
Tis found allready by that Spear
Whose barbarous Point thine own did tear.
It tore ope thine;
And therefore mine,
In which Thou, since Thou mad'st & bought'st it, by
That double Title hast more right then I.

2

To thy Hearts woefull Outcry, my
Wounds gapeing Mouth makes its reply:
Thy Clamor streameth in a flood
Of rueful Water & of Blood;
And much like this
My answer is;
For through mine Eys the dutefull Waters gush,
The burning Blood flows in my guilty Blush.

3

My guilty Blush; for I am He
Who helpd to thrust that Spear at Thee:
I helpd to thrust it, & the Blow
Upon my Self reboundeth now.
Yet must I joy
In this Annoy;
For though thy Death be proved by that Wound,
Thy Life is ratified by the Rebound.





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